To sleep, perchance to dream

I'm taking a break from making an outline for Evidence to talk at you. I don't really know if an outline is required for Evidence class (The professor has already told us he gives us his outline - which has a 100 percent chance of being at least 400 percent better than my outline - but we don't get to use an outline on the exam. Ay, there's the rub...)

Anyway, I'm feeling really great today (earlier I told Kat I thought I could run through a brick wall), and I wanted to explain why. The reason, what I'm now calling The Secret, is thus:

I slept for 13 hours last night!

It was more than just last night since I went to sleep when it was light outside (6 p.m.) and woke up when it was light again (7 a.m.). It was glorious. What started as a nap after a very long day turned into a marathon of sleeping that has re-energized me.

I'm aware that all of my readers have some experience with sleep deprivation (vast experience for some of them), but I actually have very little. I never pulled any "all-nighters" in college because only an idiot would ever put himself in such a position willingly. I knew I couldn't stay up all night if I tried, so I just avoided it. Even as editor of the school newspaper (I often thought of myself as sort of like Jimmy Olsen on percocet) we kept the nights relatively short (the newspaper had tons of errors but at least I didn't miss my beauty rest!).

I have yet to pull an all-nighter in law school, however, the potent cocktail of 8 a.m. Evidence class, a Tuesday evening class, trying to get a summer law firm job and not lose my mind has often rendered me very, very tired. So after driving to Phoenix, having interviews and then driving back, last evening I was ready for some shut-eye.

I let that shut-eye continue longer than most people would consider sensible, but the beauty was that the 6 p.m. to midnight sleeping shift really made me feel great today. Everyone talks about how sleeping the day away doesn't make you feel better (although this doesn't stop me from sleeping in on the weekends), but I think this old wives tale may be true. I felt awesome today. Drugs are not the answer; sleep is the answer.

I'm sure this post could be considered sleep-inducing (it mixes high boredom content with talk about sleep, there couldn't be a more zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz). Anyway, for one day at least, I feel spectacular. While it was not the most exciting Friday night, I consider it very productive.

So when you are feeling worn down and its only 6 p.m., don't listen to your friends who say that only nursing home residents go to bed that early. Just throw on some pajamas, get your favorite pillow and start making a better you.

I'm Larry Rogers, and I approve this message.

I wish I had more...

But I'm afraid I just don't.

I haven't been doing anything interesting lately because my time has been taken up with uninteresting things. The only thing more uninteresting than what I have been doing would be the actual work of listing those uninteresting things here. I will spare you.

I do have a few things.

It is sad to hear of the death of David Foster Wallace. I never got around to reading Infinite Jest (not that I can't in the future), but if you want to read some Wallace I really enjoy this article. He has a way of capturing what it is really like to deeply understand and enjoy the amazing ability of Federer. Sometimes it seems the only thing more difficult than being great at a sport is explaining why someone is great at a sport. And for the most transcendent athletes the only parallel is religion because the greatness is unquantifiable and unknowable and truly only reflected in the feelings that are created in those that properly appreciate the difficulty and the beauty.

I am known as a lover of sport, but even I won't go too far into fandom. I thought this would be a positive for me as a person and as a possible future lawyer. However, I think I definitely won't get hired by one firm because I had the audacity to consider sports "not that important in the grand scheme of things." I guess I was wrong; however, I stand by my point. Fantasy football teams are not important; they are fun, just not important.

I don't think I would be in very good shape if I didn't have Kat helping me. Often I take for granted what she does (after all, I'm the one reading Trial Evidence and the ALWD Manual!) but I know for certain that I wouldn't be able to get through my life on a daily basis without her. This may be an obvious point, but it has been hammered home to me over the last few weeks.

Those nice things being said, I am a bit afraid that she may divorce me and run off with a certain red Mazda MX5.

I know that award show swag is excellent, but I think law firm interview swag has to be right up there as well. Does anyone need an external laptop mouse?

I went to a wine bar last night. I felt very cool. I probably wasn't.

Kat and I watched Gimme Shelter over the weekend, which is the documentary about the Rolling Stones 1969 US tour. Of course, it concludes with the rather unpleasant free show at Altamont Speedway. But what was cool about it was the large role played by famous "King of Torts" lawyer Melvin Belli. Obviously, many did not like him, but it was cool to see him working with The Stones and trying to understand what Mick Jagger wanted - a tall order for anyone.

OK that's all for now. I think I might watch a little football and try to unwind. We'll see if I can do it.

Lloyd, I hope this was sufficient. Like many things I discuss in this space, I don't think I'm as good at this as I used to be. During The Yumanity era I was a much better blogger. Oh well, c'est la vie.

Pickup Blues

I could blog about Batson v. Kentucky or pickup basketball, so I chose the latter.

They closed the gym I played at last year on campus. Budget cuts, apparently. I just hope I actually get a diploma before they padlock the entire place or simply implode it.

So now my Friday afternoon fix requires a trip to the Rec Center. Little background on The Wreck, there was a line today of muscled dudes to get into the weight room. I am not joking. A fellow muscled dude with a badge was holding people up until someone came out. It was like the world's worst nightclub.

The basketball courts are pretty good though, and normally you don't have to wait too long. But today cemented my status as an old man who may be losing what little magic he had. I've been using the "up and under" a lot lately and other energy-conserving moves. I'm also staying back on defense a lot and not even running to the offensive end because either a turnover will send me scrambling back anyway or I'm too tired. I think soon the other players are going to start calling me "Pops."

Let me be clear: I don't think basketball has passed me by. I just think the subtly different form of "pickup basketball" has passed me by. Let me note a few examples simply from today.

1) I got my hand caught in a dude's hair! Yes, I went up for a rebound and nearly lost a finger because some guy wanted to both play basketball and look like Peter Tosh. That was a little traumatic for both of us.

2) I believe a bit too much in fairness. This manifests itself in many forms. Little enrages me more (in a very quiet manner) than calls based on the score. Calling your own fouls does not mean you have the right to deal with bumps at the beginning and then call a foul if someone breathes on you at the end. My rule is I don't call fouls by anyone on me. If they foul me hard enough for it to actually affect me, everyone will know it and will stop. As a result, this can hurt my effectiveness.

Secondly, on the matter of fairness, I won't stand for irregularities in "who got next." If two girls and a dude in a World B. Free throwback have been waiting, they get to play. There is no discussion. Today, a girl had been waiting game after game, so I told her she could play with me. When our turn came up, she got to play and run the point guard. Full disclosure, we got slaughtered, but I was happier with that outcome than if we had won and she had not gotten to play. I will not sit idly by while such tyranny is allowed to propagate unchecked!

3) I just want to play the way I play, but too many times guys on my team are telling me what to do. Today, I played my first game and we destroyed this other team. Then, those losing team's point guard joined our team because one of our guys left. In this next game, I was being guarded by a guy who probably could bench press around 400 pounds. As such, he played like a guy who can bench press 400 pounds (LeBron excepted, of course). Namely, he was a bit "mechanistic" and preferred brute force to wisdom or body control. But despite his obvious strength advantage, the fact that I was taller than Mr. Muscles by about three inches caused the new point guard to adamantly implore me to "post him up." My rule is I don't really post anything up (and that includes actual posts). Rather than take the advice, I just got the ball on the wing, drove around Mr. Universe and laid the ball in. This only angered The Hulk, who proceeded to bury me under the hoop repeatedly and call for the ball. I don't know if he ever scored, though.

Here's the point: let's just all play smart and make the intelligent play. Square pegs, round holes, make the extra pass, take what the defense gives us, cliche, well-worn mantra, etc.

4) I don't care as much as these guys anymore. Win or lose, I'm just glad to get to run around and clear my head. Basically, I just don't want to get hurt (and that includes any hair-related injuries), get a sweat going and then go home. That's the beauty of what we call "Law School Basketball." Everyone who plays agrees with those tenets and thus most problems are solved. We are still hoping to have Law School Basketball again this year, so I hope we can find enough people.

I admit that I sound like Walter Sobchak, but I don't think my suggestions are too much to ask. I do love pickup basketball and can think of few things that are more fun or easier to get involved in (you just show up and play, that's why basketball is great), but as I age I might be getting a little crotchety. Oh well, I guess it's my right.

Last things:

Gustav go away!

Cancer go away! (Some kind of harsh language on that link, but I think it's funny)

Late Night Texts

A transcript of the text messages between Lloyd and I during the Team USA-Spain gold-medal game in the middle of the night:

Me: Are you still awake for this game?
Lloyd: Yeah barely
Me: Me too ill wake up when they start playing
Lloyd: Yeah
Me: A little scary but at least wade is rolling
Lloyd: Yeah, were in such a hurry to try to pressure that they blow by us or we foul them were fine though
Me: Still pretty scary but kobe and lebron Should be fresh
Lloyd: Yeah, i dont like this cuz pau should be fresh too and they're outplaying us
Me: Still pretty scary well see what happens
Lloyd: Im getting upset with our guards defense. Irate may be a better word.
Me: Not good
Lloyd: Yeah. This is trouble
Me: This is nuts
Lloyd: Yeah. Glad i decided to wake up for this.

I don't know if that game should have been that close, but it was definitely great to watch. If they replay it, drop whatever you are doing - even if it is a patient in the ER - and watch because you'll enjoy it immensely. Also, keep watching until the interview Saigs has with Wade and Kobe after the game. For celebrities and professional athletes, it is an ironclad rule that honesty is the worst policy. For someone like Kobe, being himself isn't even worthwhile because half the people hate him and the other half believe that every second of his life is calculated, orchestrated and stage-managed. I reside seemingly with one foot in both camps. But I will say this with certainty: the dude is ultra-clutch and he seemed genuinely elated with winning a gold medal.

Wade was a joy to watch and LeBron did what he does, but when it came down to the end, since Team USA had Kobe there was no question who should take the big shots and handle the big possessions. Kobe will never be Jordan because he isn't that popular and Jordan came first. But Kobe is the only real qualified heir to the throne as being a Jordan-esque killer when the game is on the line.

Kobe may have been happy because he succeeded in China (where he is beloved even more than Hasselhoff in Germany), because he was the hero or because it will mean more endorsements, but in watching that interview and the way he hugged Wade (not to get any more homoerotic than this post already has been), it just seemed that he was sincerely thrilled. I'm sure the interview will be on Youtube for at least a brief time (NBC's minions are apparently quite efficient at getting things taken down) and I encourage you to find it. It made me happy to see other people that happy. It might do the same for you.

(Maybe) How Keith and Shaleah Think

I just finished Dr. Jerome Groopman's How Doctors Think, a thought-about-thought-provoking look at the puzzle doctors face in trying to make correct diagnoses. I enjoyed the book - it read like a mundane version of House, minus all the insults and clear ethical violations. Mainly, the book is a catalog of cognitive errors that doctors can make - availability error, search satisfaction, overreliance on Occam's (Groopman spells it Ockham's) razor, etc. The book offers lots of handy doctorish sayings for dinner parties - "when you hear hoofbeats, think horses not zebras" - but often Groopman shows why these saying can be dangerous, since maybe the doctor is looking at one zebra in a hundred horses. But as Groopman recounts tales of misdiagnosis, it shows the art, rather than science, of being a doctor - a point Keith has made to me many a time. While the book may lead the lay reader (which is its target audience) to believe doctors are just flailing away in the dark, Groopman seems simply to be advocating for openmindedness on every case and the courage (or maybe just the time!) to question initial assumptions.

While legal issues are a small part of the book, one always is aware that any misdiagnosis can lead to a malpractice suit. But Groopman isn't crucifying doctors for being wrong. He is simply taking them to task for thinking they can't be wrong or not being willing to change course when it becomes clear that they are. Nothing in this book is ground-breaking. None of the wisdom or warnings about cognitive errors would be news to doctors, but Groopman shows how the current medical system - predicated on speed of appointments, avoiding expensive tests or (horror!) redoing those tests, and the constant marketing of drugs and surgical devices - can make avoiding cognitive errors almost impossible.

Having said all that, I don't think I could cut it as a doctor. There is too much that is unknown, too many things that could be happening unseen and consequences that are too serious if things go wrong. I've come to believe that almost everything - including, in many cases, the law - is a game (the book How Lawyers Think would be boring, incomprehensible, focused on winning verdicts rather than justice, and ultimately pointless), but being a doctor is not a game. It is very important work. Throughout my reading of the book, I could not help but compare the analysis that Groopman was doing with what I would think in the same situation. (On the first day of law school they say they are going to change the way you think, and I have to admit that they are right.) But I'm not sure if the way I think is helping anyone particularly (or ever will), but I know that the way Keith and Shaleah think is helping some thankful Nebraskans.

Sometimes thinking about thinking can leave one wrapped in a confusing puzzle of meta-ness, but it is a worthwhile exercise. I know I took some things from Groopman's book that will help me make better decisions. I'm expecting that those decisions won't involve life and death, but for those who do make such decisions, remember, zebras do exist!

A Good Story You Might Enjoy - Updated

Update: I forgot to link the story because, well, I'm a moron. Now, it's fixed.

I found this article on SI.com about Myron Rolle, a Florida State (!) football player who may win a Rhodes Scholarship. I thought it was definitely worth a read, however, this quote shows that there is still a long way to go before academics at big-time schools are anywhere near as important as athletics.

In individual meetings after last season, (FSU Defensive Coordinator Mickey) Andrews urged Rolle to treat football preparation with the same intensity he does his schoolwork.

"I asked him, how much time did you spend watching tape of Florida the week we played them compared to how much time you take to prepare for a chemistry exam?" said Andrews. "He didn't prepare [for the games] like he was trying to get an A. The message hit home. I saw a much more focused guy in the spring."

Thanks, Coach, for reminding me that even though I'm one of the best pre-med students in the country while simultaneously one of the best safeties in the country, I'm still letting you down.

Good luck to Myron Rolle. Mickey Andrews DIAF.

The July Fourth Amendment

The G Team had a good Independence Day yesterday. We lounged around watching Federer and Nadal take care of business in the semifinals, so we could properly prepare for the greatness to come on July 6th. (Note: Kat gets very annoyed when I talk about how excited I am to wake up at 5 a.m. to watch tennis. She said something like "It's always Federer and Nadal." But it doesn't matter, the match should be spectacular.)

Then we worked on my resume, cover letter and other documents for getting a good job in the summer of 2009. Kat delivers excellent feedback, although sometimes I am not the most willing listener. I think we've got something that doesn't make me sound too insane, but I hope that the people who are reading it are in the right frame of mind.

We also bought some groceries and checked on the garden (growing out of control, still).


Study of Squash and Law Book. Kathryn Elizabeth Gautreaux. June 2008.

Our friend Suzette came over so we watched some old episodes of the Mary Tyler Moore Show on hulu.com, went swimming and then had a Kat specialty, the "big" salad.

Then, we left a bit too early to head up Mount Lemmon to watch Tucson's many fireworks displays. Parking is always a problem, so I wanted to go early, but after going early, patient became a problem. I don't know if it is a weak economy, fear of fire or just overall malaise, but there were very few fireworks shows.


Kat and Suzette. With Flash. July 2008.

And the city's biggest show started so late (maybe because of rain, we couldn't tell) that we left before it started. We caught glimpses of it on the drive home.


Kat and Me and the Lights of Tucson. No Flash. July 2008.

Anyway, it was still a very nice day that we topped off with The Soup, Coconut Meringue pie and some ice cream.

Other news and notes:

Law review topic was approved. That doesn't mean it's actually good, but at least it was approved.

Carlos Quentin, Lloyd's second favorite baseball player, continues his torrid play. It is expected that he will be selected for the All-Star Game today.

Congrats to Mandy and Joel on their wedding.

The July Fourth Amendment comes into play when police attempt to search the backpack of a young ruffian who may have illegal bottle rockets. Without a warrant or consent, the search of the bag is illegal. However, the young ruffian likely won't know this, so he will consent, the bottle rockets will be found, and police will give his parents a stern lecture. The cycle then repeats like the circle of life.

I hope everyone had a good July 4th and a good weekend. Gone.